101 Dimstrade
by Love is a Mayer
Summary: Lestrade and Dimmock have such a strong relationship, and nothing can change that. 101 Dimmstrade one shots And if you want to suggest a prompt, give me a holler! I'm open to anything.
1. Prologue

**_I really wanted to do 101 one shots about Dimmock and Lestrade because there's not much out there of them. Hopefully a lot of people will like this,and please review,thanks!^-^_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, as much as I would like to XD_**

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Nothing amazing or spectacular ever happened to the Yard when an August heat wave hit the London area. It was like every murderer in the city took a day off, and it was a good thing too, since it gave Lestrade and Donovan more time to pull pranks on their fellow coworkers.

"I've got my eyes locked on him," Sally giggled helplessly as she and Greg crouched behind a desk, watching Dimmock strode over to the coffee machine.

He had his favorite blue mug in hand as he turned the machine on, whistling the whole time.

"Shh, you have to be quite. The guys got ears like a hawk, and it wouldn't end well if he finds out our plan." And frankly, Greg didn't want Dimmock to catch on to soon, seeing how he had planned this for hours the day before.

When Dimmock began to add the creamer to his drink, however, it seemed that Donavan just couldn't hold it in anymore. Collapsing in a fit of laughter, she attracted the attention of everyone in the room, plus the person they were hoping to prank.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Dimmock seemed to have chosen that moment to look down at his mug. He quirked a brown eyebrow before looking back up at Lestrade, a knowing frown tugging at his lips.

"Really, guys. Must you ruin the only thing I look forward to in this bloody hell hole," he called out, dumping the muddy water into the sink.

Greg gave his best bewildered expression-which wasn't bad at all- as he pulled himself up off the floor. "Problem, Dimmock?"

The younger DI slammed his mug onto the counter top with obvious anger towards his colleagues, and boyfriend. "Of course theirs one you sod!"

Sally looked actually worried for her boss as the brown haired man stomped back to hos lonely desk. "You think he's actually mad," she asked as she too got up off the floor.

It was the number one rule around the Yard too always be aware of Sally Donavan and Greg Lestrade no matter what. You could wind up with a faulty pen exploding in your face during a big interview, or be rewarded with a makeover if you fell asleep on the job. Dimmock was the main offender of that, and had always been pranked to no end because of it.

Lestrade had pinned the jokes on karma, saying that it was his fault he couldn't stay awake, but in truth it was because the guy was just so bloody easy to prank.

Though, nowadays Dimmock had been picking up on their tricks more and more, leaving the two with hours and hours of endless planning that were always in vain. Dimmock enjoyed his naps, and nothing could stop him from taking them, and if that meant always keeping one eye open, then he would do it.

Lestrade fiddled with his neck tie, not particularly comfortable with the feeling that began to wedge its way into his chest. He hadn't meant to anger Iain; just wanted to have some fun while his youth deflated.

"He might be," Lestrade admitted rather begrudgingly. He didn't like to admit when something failed, particularly his pranks. They were one of the things that kept the sharks of old age at bay, but now that he hurt Dimmock with a rather kid friendly one, he wasn't sure he should keep doing it on the guy, or at least lessen the blows.

"I'll go and find out," he murmured to Donovan, already slipping between desks until he was face to face with his boyfriend.

"What do you want, Greg," Dimmock snapped as he typed up a case report.

"I just wanted to…." Lestrade trailed off at a loss for words.

"What, just wanted to hurt me some more?" Dimmock looked royally pist as he stood up, nose to nose with the older man. "I'm sick of being tormented by all the bloody jokes, and you know what?"

"What?"

"I can't take it anymore, Greg. This thing we have going isn't working out, it's over."

Lestrade's stomach literally fell to his feet, and his heartbeat quickened, but he didn't let it stop him from grabbing the younger man's jacket sleeve. He wasn't about to let it go down this way, not from a harmless little prank. "So you're just going to let everything we have go to waste because I humiliated you? That doesn't even make sense, and you know it! I thought what we had was special but I guess-"

Dimmock cut the older man off, before he could continue his rant, with a barky laugh. "I finally got you! You should have seen your face when I yelled at you, I thought you were about to kill me."

Lestrade's mouth hung wide open as he stared. It was quiet around the room, save for Dimmock's laughter, but then someone chuckled under their breath. Within seconds, the whole floor was bursting with laughter over the expense of their boss.

For a moment, as Lestrade's face pinched together, Dimmock thought he had gone a little overboard with the whole display. But then a small smile cracked across the older DI's face and he wrapped both hands around Ian's waste, pulling the man closer until they were perfectly fitted.

"You bloody sod, "Lestrade murmured before crushing his lips to the younger mans. Iain froze for half a second before wrapping his own hands around Lestrade's neck, enjoying the sweet, yet quick kiss. They stayed like that until eventually air loss won out, and the fact that they weren't in private.

"Well, duties calls," Lestrade winked before strolling back to his office, all the while never taking his eyes off of Dimmock.


	2. Rain

**_The second chapter is finally up! It's been raining lately here so I just had to put Dimmock and Lestrade in a rainy place,also!^_^ Please review and tell me what you think:)  
_**

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Rain is wet, and it is unnecessary. It makes you feel like hiding away in your house forever on end, and it covers up the evidence on a crime investigation very well. In short, it's a pain in the arse for the Yarders when they have to work a case in it.

"Why does it have to rain now?"

"It's London, Donovan," Dimmock mumbled, sidling up next to the body on the pavement. It was of a young woman, one who had mysteriously fell off one of London's abandoned buildings not too long ago. How and why she got up there was still a mystery the detectives were figuring out. "It's likely to not stop until next week at the pace it's going."

Donovan gave an exasperated sigh. "This bloody weather ruins my hair, it does. And where's your jacket, Iain! You'll catch a cold out here, and more likely I'll catch death from Lestrade if he sees you and knows I didn't berate you about it."

"I'm fine, really Sally. "Dimmock rolled his eyes, still checking the slightly warm body for any sign of clues. He wasn't as good as Sherlock in that department, but he did have at least a tiny inkling when it came to finding a murderer. And even though it took him hours to solve a case that Sherlock could solve in a minute, he didn't mind, so long as he did his duty for London's people.

After about an hour of checking the body (and finding not one useful thing) Dimmock choked back his pride, and whipped out his cellphone. The phone threatened to slip out of his hand as he texted Sherlock a message. The rain had begun to pick up slightly over the course of the hour, blowing hard drizzles everywhere to make it impossible to see fifty feet in front of you.

_Need you to come over to Buck's Row, now.-Dimmock_

Not really one to enjoy a good dead body, Dimmock strode to the edge of the empty lot. He sat back on the balls of his heels, rubbing the rain out of his tired eyes. It was a long day, and going to be longer when the freak showed up. He could have mustered the battle with Lestrade by his side, could always when he had his other half next to him. But the older man had been called away for some big meeting that morning, leaving Dimmock with a kiss and a promise that he'd be back before the younger man even blinked.

Though it was only a metaphor, he couldn't help but count every eye blink, and though it was childish, he couldn't stop the feelings of separation from entering his stomach every time he saw a taxi drive by.

"Has any one ever told you that you look marvelous under the rain? But seriously, you'll catch a cold without your jacket!"

Dimmock opened his eyes, ready to shoot off a no doubt angry retort, when he saw who had spoken to him. Dimmock stared, dumfounded. He wished he could say something more witty, and insightful, but settled for a-

"Er, you're here?"

It came out all fast and breathy, and he kicked himself for not sounding more composed. Though, Lestrade didn't seem to mind as he smiled. He was towering over the younger man, in a long black jacket that fitted him just right. It made him feel slightly childish in his white dress up shirt and muddy dress up shoes.

"Yeah, the meeting got cut short. And then Sherlock texted me, saying something about you being a pest and to stop texting him about some boring suicide case. "

Dimmock scratched his nose. "Sorry about that. The guy has to learn to stop being such an arrogant sod all the time. He doesn't even have the decency to text back!"

"Well, that's Sherlock for- ah"

Unable to sit back while Lestrade teased him with the black overcoat and expensive after shave, Dimmock lunged for Greg, who stumbled a couple feet backwards but returned the kiss with as much force.

"Iain, we're in the middle of a case. We'd be in a lot of- ah- trouble if someone were to see us."

"The fog, works wonders when you actually need it."

"Yeah, but's it's very easy to walk right through it, you kno-_ow" _The last of the sentence was slightly hitched as Dimmock began to trail kisses down Lestrade's neck. There was to be no signs of romance when you were working a case, but that didn't stop Dimmock and Lestrade. But they hadn't seen each other romantically for at least a week, so a few nibbles here and there wouldn't hurt anyone.

When he had left no area unmissed, Dimmock rested his head on Lestrade's shoulder, letting the older man run hands through his hair.

"They can't complain now. Holding isn't against the rules."

Lestrade chuckled.

"You're probably the only that has read the manual completely."

"Hey, I had to make sure there wasn't anything on firing people who took excessive naps."

The two stayed in the embrace of the fog for a while, laughing and enjoying each other's company. After a while the fog began to clear, and the rain picked up finally separating the two as people began to leave the crime scene.


	3. Sickness

**_Here's the next chap. Hope you like and please review! They are love ^-^_**

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Illness was just something Lestrade couldn't wrap his head around. It was rather nasty, always making you cough and sneeze, and it made you completely vulnerable for days on end. And though he hated even the idea of germs and bacteria, he didn't hate the people who caught it.

"You know, I could always go check up on him if it would make you feel better."

Lestrade huffed at John's suggestion. They were in his office after a rather long case, ending with Sherlock half passed out on the sofa in the corner, when Lestrade mentioned Dimmock catching a cold. They all could've avoided this if Dimmock had just worn his jacket to that case last week, but the guy had strong pride and was a strong non believer of superstition.

"I don't think he needs any more doctors pestering over him. Just a little nap is all."

John quirked a blonde eyebrow, his lips sticking out in obvious disagreement.

"But if it's a cold then he might need medication."

"Oh no," Lestrade pushed. "He has all the bloody medication I could find on the stuff. It's just his first cold, and he thinks that if he has every medication on cold, it'll go away in an hour or so."

"Are you bloody serious? His first cold and he's what, thirty two?"

"Thirty six, and yes, he's never had a cold. I asked him about it and he said that he was always healthy. It wouldn't help his future career if he was always taking the day off." Greg moved down farther into his chair and bit into his donut.

"Brilliant! I have to find out how he does it." He paused to rethink his words. "Or did it, anyway. And why did he stop in the first place?"

Lestrade blinked, taken aback at the question. "Umm- he forgot his um…." Lestrade face burned bright red, and his focus shifted down to the ground. This wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to be having with Sherlock's lover.

'You know what, I don't need to know," John said a little too fast. He was smiling at what he probably thought had happened, and seeing how he was with Sherlock, the man couldn't be too far off.

Lestrade nodded; glad he didn't have to explain. "So, how are things with Sherlock?"

"Oh, you know same old, same old. Every day I wake up to a body part either in the fridge or somewhere equally as important. I yell but it just doesn't faze the guy."

Lestrade smiled at the doctor, knowing how the consulting detective could be. "It'd be best not to waste your voice, seeing as how nothing important gets through his head."

"Should've told me that sooner."

Lestrade laughed before getting up out of his office chair. He made it to the door before turning around to Watson. "Well, if you don't mind, John, I have to go make sure Dimmock's not getting into any trouble."

* * *

Dimmock's lonely looking flat was dark through the windows as Lestrade made his way up the stairs. Once he was finally in front of 498c, Lestrade gave a quite knock to the aged wooden door.

The door to Dimmock's flat creaked open a minute later holding up a rather sickly colored DI. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering Dimmock's forehead, and his cheeks were a dark red color, as if all of his body heat had transferred to his face. And then there was the instinctive sound of wheezing coming from his lungs which told Lestrade that the younger man hadn't coughed the mucus out of his system yet.

He took a deep breath before steering his boyfriend into the dark flat. "You look somehow worse than this morning. I'll turn on the telly, and we can watch Doctor Who tonight."

Lestrade shut the door behind them, ignoring the wines of protest escaping Dimmock's mouth.


	4. Super market

_**I had to much fun with this one XD Also, If you want to see any particular prompt, give me a holler! I'm open to anything:D**_

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Usually when your other half tells you to go pick up some stuff from the super market, you agree with the upmost sincerity and run down there faster than lightning because it's your life's mission to please that person.

And that was how Dimmock had been feeling from the beginning when Greg asked him to pick out dinner, and maybe even a little excited that he had trusted him so.

But when he entered the quaint little shop just a block away from Greg's flat, he felt his stomach drop down into his feet. Yes, they had been dating for a year now, and they spent every living moment with each other, but how was he ever supposed to know what would please Greg? When they went out on dates, he liked to order the steak and potatoes, but he didn't know where to start looking for all the supplies without help.

Dimmock didn't even know what food was where in the tiny family store, because he was quite simply not one for shopping. Ordering takeout had always been the way to go with him, but now that he had Greg in his life, he had to start thinking along the lines of a couple. You didn't eat lonely people food when you had someone to share a nice hot meal with.

With an irritated snort, Dimmock began shuffling towards the shopping cart holder. He gripped the cart handle and gave it one great pull; nothing. He put his foot on the bottom basket and clenched both sides of the cart, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge it from its current prison. When the second try proved as useless, and just served to make him more of a weirdo, Dimmock threw his hands up in the air with a defeated cry.

"Fine, if you don't want to cooperate, then I'll just use a basket!"

With one last kick to the inanimate object, Dimmock picked up a basket, glad that it at least wanted to cooperate, and made his way down the first aisle.

"Okay, he likes noodles I should think."

Dimmock reached down and picked the lone blue box of Bow tie noodles, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Ha, that wasn't to-"

His happy boast was cut off as he looked up. There sat at least a thousand different kinds of noodles all arranged in perfect rows on the shelf. There were twisted types, straight types, ones shaped like cartoon characters, and ones that were different colors. He had never seen so many different types of _anything_ in his entire life.

In hindsight, he realized he might've spoken to soon.

After the disastrous noodle incident, which ended in a ninety year old grandma helping him choose the best kind, Dimmock realized the next aisle was where he had never seen just so much unnecessary items. It was bad enough that the tube was impossible to navigate, but did they have to make something so mundane a complete maze?

He walked over to the canned foods hoping to find carrots (Greg's doctor insisted with his age) but instead found nothing but snap peas, chicken guts, dioxide cow brains, and anything else they could fit into the metal container, all except for carrots.

"Where are the bloody carrots?" Dimmock snarled, fed up with the modern food marketing, and fed up with shopping. He was just about to call it quits too, when a voice behind him spoke up.

"Umm, sorry to bother you, sir, but they're on the bottom shelf."

Dimmock raised both brown eyebrows before turning towards a young woman. Her dirty blonde hair was put up into a high pony tail and her face, was slightly flushed from the winter winds, as she tugged off her pink scarf. Probably just got off of work, Dimmock deduced as he opened his mouth for an apology.

"No need to apologize, my husband does the same thing too when he comes here. Acts like he's never seen a store in his life. I blame modern television for that fault" she said, cutting him off as she held out her hand. "I'm Jules Norman, by the way."

"Iain Dimmock."

"So, who's the lucky girl you're going crazy shopping for?"

Dimmock adverted his eyes as he bent down for the carrots. "Umm, I'm actually shopping for my boyfriend."

"Oh, "she said, a little off guard, but then, "he must be real special if you're taking the time off to shop for him. I find it a big bloody mess going out here for Patrick, and he doesn't even thank me!'

Dimmock's eyes widened as he stood, dispensing the can into his empty basket, save for the noodles. "Yeah, he is."

Jules smiled warmly before her blue eyes flicked to the half empty basket Dimmock was holding. "You need some help there? I doubt your boyfriend would like noodles and carrots bathed in vinegar for dinner."

He looked down with embarrassment at the half hazard try. Greg always did everything for him and the least he could do was make a quality dinner, but he couldn't even do that.

"That would be appreciated, actually if you don't mind."

"Not at all and what does…"

"Greg," he supplied, scratching his nose.

"Ah, nice name. What does Greg like to eat," Jules asked, steering the young DI towards the frozen section.

At that, Dimmock beamed with pride, glad that he knew at least one thing about Greg's eating habits.

"He loves to eat steak and potatoes."


	5. Talent part 1

No one outside of Dimmock's immediate family knew about his talent for the piano, except for Greg. In all aspects of the word, knowing how to play the piano was childish and girly. His mom never approved of it and certainly not his dad. They both thought it would corrupt his mind, and get in the way of his studies.

But not once did he ever give up on it. There would be a pause in the learning when a case was demanded, yes, but he never gave up on it fully. Though, he always tried to keep his job as a DI, and his hobby separate from each other. They were two worlds with two totally different Dimmock's living in them.

"I'm bloody scared as hell," Dimmock muttered mostly to himself as he peeked out from behind the curtain. It was the final night of the Telban's 50th young achievers music competition, the one night where he was someone else, someone that everyone respected, someone who didn't get harassed because he was the youngest DI.

"You're almost on, Iain."

Dimmock turned to the heavy set man directing him, before looking back out at the crowd. His brown eyes kept traveling to a particular seat in the front row. And every time he saw the empty red chair with the reserved card on it, his stomach would drop further.

_Greg promised he'd be here and he always keeps his promises._

Letting the curtain close, Dimmock pulled out his phone, and checked the messages.

"Come on," he whispered, flipping through his inbox. "Where are you Greg?"

He was about to call the guy when his name boomed out of the overhead speakers.

"We are very pleased to welcome a home town guest, everybody. Please welcome Iain Dimmock as he plays Beethoven's fifth symphony!"

There wasn't any time to get a hold of him now, especially since he was about to go on. Setting his phone down onto one of the tables with obvious anger, and a lot of hurt, Dimmock made his way onto the brightly lit stage.

The crowd before him clapped quietly, not wanting to seem rude in front of the no doubt, in experienced man. But none of that mattered to him. It was all white noise in his muddled head at the moment. The eager eyes raking over him, expecting him to play beautifully, didn't even register with him while he waited for the noise to die down.

_He promised he'd show up. _Dimmock kept thinking over and over again as he stared at the empty seat._ Why did he lie?_

It shouldn't have been such a big deal to him. With their messed up work schedules, both men rarely ever had time for little tedious things such as concerts, or movies. They both knew never to get their hopes up about something like that. But still, the twisting feeling surged in his stomach and with each passing second brought a painful crushing worry that pounded against his heart.

Stifling the oncoming sob, Dimmock bowed and began to take his seat on the bench. And now, with no clue as to where Greg Lestrade was, Iain Dimmock pushed aside his ever growing pain and played one of the most beautiful performances that crowd had ever heard.


	6. Talent part 2

**_I don't know why,but I always pegged Dimmock as the piano master type. So,anyways,enjoy!^-^_**

* * *

The room was dense with idle chatter of the dazzled crowd. The competitions were usually the best place to catch the eyes of the most talented and influential musicians around the world. Though, most of the competitors had gone home after all the elites had flocked to Dimmock's side, seeing as how they weren't going to leave until he had made a decision on who he wanted to pick as his predecessor. They were there to make his life something different, to take him away from all the pain of being a DI and having to work for his money.

So why the hell he was thinking of Greg's absence, instead of a bright new future, spoke wonders of how he felt about the whole situation.

"…and with your talent being so exceptionally exquisite, I thought it would only be fitting if you'd learn how to play the violin too. I mean, if you want to get into the music business, and possibly play full time for the Queen, then you need to learn early."

"Yeah, you're probably ...wait, what," Dimmock stammered out. His head had clearly not been in the conversation at all. There was no way he was going to work for the Queen when he had a perfectly normal job right at the Yard, where Greg worked.

"Iain, this is the perfect opportunity for you-"

Thankfully, Dimmock didn't feel any kind of emotion as he turned his attention fully on the uptight group of men. If it were any other time, he would have felt extremely insignificant under their calculating gazes, but it wasn't any other time, and he couldn't keep his jumbled mind from wandering to the one man that should have been there, the only person he wanted there.

"I'm sorry that I have to cut this little meeting short, but I'm feeling rather, er…sick. Bit of a sod just leaving and all..." He didn't bother filling in the rest, seeing as how it was rather minuscule to what he was really feeling in his heart.

"Oh yes… of course" The men each shook Dimmock's hand. "It's been a pleasure having the opportunity to talk to you, Iain. I daresay," the oldest of the group said, "I'll see you at other events like this, soon." He raised his wine glass in a toast before sauntering off to the minglers.

* * *

Dimmock entered Lestrade's dark flat with bleary eyes. He didn't feel like going halfway across town to his own flat, and surely his boyfriend wouldn't mind. It was kind of weird, but it was the only piece of the man he could keep with him at the moment, seeing as how the older DI was out working a case at four in the morning.

He took his time undoing his tie, and even more shedding his suit. By the time he had gotten into a pair of Greg's old sweats and a gray over shirt, it was already four -forty. Dimmock fumed silently as he flipped off the light and climbed into the cold bed. He wasted no time pulling the comforter up over his shoulders, milling in the despair that seemed to radiate off his body.

Dimmock took a deep breath- held it for a moment- before forcing himself to ignore the raking across his heart. It couldn't really be Greg's fault, seeing as how their demanding schedules always kept the pair busy until the wee hours in the morning. If he was still gone ad hadn't bothered to call Dimmock, then Greg was probably on a hard case, one that required the help of arrogant consulting detective. He had no right to feel bad by any means simply because they both had been let down in the past when one was called away without a minutes notice. Dimmock didn't know how many times he had celebrated an achievement on a case or even just a free night alone, and vice versa. It was one of the reasons their relationship worked so much because they both knew how demanding the schedule of a DI could be.

When one of them was falling into the bed, the other had just dragged himself out of it. And always, there was the matter of spending time out of town on murderously long cases, with the exception of fuzzy phone calls and promises to see each other soon.

And even with knowing all of that, it was impossible to not feel let down and hurt. Dimmock had been secretly waiting for this day for two months because he knew that Greg was finally going to see him in a new light, not being picked on at the Yard.

In the cocoon of the blankets, and the privacy of the dark, Dimmock finally allowed himself to cry, something he hadn't done since he was in primary school.

Minutes passed by, eventually hours, and yet no sign of Greg. The tears had stopped flowing some hours ago while Dimmock ran his fingers across the icy surface of his partner's side.

"I love you, Greg, wherever you are" Dimmock murmured before slipping off into deep sleep, a single tear running down his cheek.

* * *

_**I feel bad for ending the chapter with Dimmock crying, but I needed some angst here because not all relationships are perfect. Don't worry though, they'll make up and be happy soon:D Remember,you can request any particular gesture you want and don't forget to review!**_


	7. Talent part 3

**_The final part of Talent. A little bit of fluff but I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!:D_**

* * *

"Iain." Dimmock stirred a little, about to playfully bat Greg's kisses away when everything that had happened the night before flooded his head until it was all he could think about.

"It's morning babe, I think you need to get up," the DI called out brightly.

"Mhm, stop," Dimmock moaned, hiding his head deeper under his pillow.

"Hey, you're the one that wanted to be a DI. It's a demanding schedule, so wakey wakey."

Dimmock made a gurgling sound before kicking his legs.

"Oh, please, Dimmock, stop acting like a baby. There's never been a problem with you before so get up."

With a snarl that was more a hiccup really, Dimmock scooted off the queen size bed, promptly ignoring the silver haired DI who was perched rather sexily on the corner of it.

He gave Greg a sinister looking scowl before shuffling off to the loo. Fortunately, Dimmock hadn't needed to alert Greg to the minor error he had caused, seeing as how the older DI wasn't one to miss blatant signals. For one, Iain always kissed him good morning with a rather vulgar promise later. For two, Iain had that face on; the one where everything and everyone could burn in hell for all he cared so long as he got his revenge; though for whom it was aimed at was still a mystery.

Greg heard the distinctive flushing of the loo and then the sink turning on. After a couple of minutes the bathroom door swung open revealing a rather irritated and half naked Dimmock.

"Everything alright?" Greg asked cautiously whilst Iain yanked his side of the dresser open angrily. They established a spot in the flat for Dimmock to keep his clothes after a rather nudist incident occurred with the mailman the next morning. For everyone's sake, it was the best idea to keep spare outfits.

Dimmock turned around to glare at Greg, a curse playing on his lips as he pulled his pants off. "There. Is. Nothing. Wrong," he spat, emphasizing each word.

"There obviously is something wrong, taking in your bloody attitude. I know I was gone for the whole day yesterday, but I mean come on."

"You don't even realize it, do you?"

"Realize bloody what, Iain!" Greg roared, getting up off the bed to amble over to the younger DI.

Dimmock threw his hands up in the air, finally turning his seething eyes on Greg. "Do you remember when you told me that when you made a promise that you were supposed to keep it no matter what?"

"What does-"

"Do you remember?"

"Yeah, I remember it, but why are you asking?"

Dimmock said nothing, not lost for words, just knowing that Greg was responsible for filling the silence in.

Greg reached his hands up to grip Dimmock's face in a reassuring way, but the younger DI turned back around, pulling out a full suit minus the tie as he sidestepped his boyfriend.

"Stop, please." Dimmock's tone was suddenly quiet. "I've got to get ready for work before I get fired."

Gripping his clothing tightly, Dimmock began walking towards the bathroom again. He thought he was home free right up until a tanned hand caught his own and dragged him back to the bed, pinning him there. The younger DI protested weakly- fed up with fighting a fight that would only hurt him more.

"I'm not going to fucking stop, Iain. Not when you're obviously hurt by something I've done, and I think I have a right to know!" Greg shifted, stretching out on top of him so that Iain didn't have a chance in hell of escaping. "Out with it, love."

A painful feeling welled up in Iain's stomach at the sight of Greg's face. He saw right through it, just like he always did, even if it hadn't been a charade.

Greg folded his arms over Iain's chest, gladly showing that he could wait the younger man out even if it took all day- something Dimmock was willing to test if the idea of work hadn't chased it away.

"You forgot…" Dimmock began in a low whisper, blowing out the air Greg's body weight was crushing.

Greg said nothing.

Dimmock closed his eyes afraid to see Greg's response. "You forgot to come last night."

"Come where, love? I'm not following," Greg responded slowly with a quirked silver brow.

"To my piano recital, Greg! "

Greg was silent for a moment, but then his eyes widened with shock. "Oh, god, Iain! It was last night?"

"Yeah, and you bloody promised and everything! I know I'm not supposed to get my hopes up about these things, but I thought maybe…"

The older man's brown eyes flicked back and forth as he read his partner's face. "Maybe what," he whispered.

"That you'd see me doing something I was good at and finally be bloody proud of me. Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for you, and what if I'm right?"

Greg disentangled himself from Dimmock as he stood upright. "Iain, I am so bloody sorry. I wanted to go and planned on it, but something came up at the last minute and I totally forgot."

Dimmock rubbed his temples as he too sat upright, looking at the clock, trying to stifle the cry when he realized Greg hadn't answered his question.

"Look, Greg I have to-"

"But just know that I don't care how rich, how spectacular you are at something." He reached over and took Dimmock's hand in his own, slowly rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. "It doesn't matter how many bloody eyes you have either because I love you and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please listen when I say that I am truly sorry for missing your recital."

Dimmock watched Greg, his eyes wide and breathe shallow. Yeah, it hurt that Greg missed last night, but he would get over it eventually.

"And you," he smiled lustfully, "are solely and purely the best thing that has ever happened to me."

And just like that, Dimmock patched his broken heart back together for the moment as they passionately kissed, because he knew that Greg hadn't met to hurt him ever. He couldn't think, just remembered a sudden urge to take Greg- his beautiful, strong, loving Greg- and smother him in kisses; as weird as that sound it was the only way to explain the sudden feeling of _want._ The kiss was awkward and by no means loving, the two acing like death was about to catch up to them if they let go.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths came out short and raspy.

"I truly love you Greg and I shouldn't have been so upset when you weren't there. We went over this a million times and yet, I still felt like you betrayed me. I'm getting over it, but it will take time."

Greg momentarily stopped rubbing circles on the back of Iain's hand, his expression blank.

"Take all the time you need."


	8. Gift

_**This chapter has take forever to put up but I thank you guys for keeping with it!^-^ It really does make my day, so thank you. **_

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"Do you think a teddy bear is suitable? I was thinking about the baby doll, but now I'm not so sure."

"If it's a midlife crisis thing then I'd say go for the red sports car you pointed out yesterday."

"It's not a midlife crisis episode." Greg glanced at Dimmock before adding, "Yet, I hope."

The older man thumbed through the toy magazine as he sat Indian style on the carpeted front room floor of his flat. Likewise, Dimmock, with two cups of tea, sat directly opposite Greg with a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

"Okay, then if it's not your age coming into question, why are you madly flipping through a bloody little girl's toy magazine? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"God no, you sod," Greg laughed, throwing the aforementioned magazine at his partner. "My niece's birthday is in two days, and she asked me to get her something special. I guess she got tired of me always buying her action movies."

"You bought a five year old action movies? More for your benefit, I guess." Dimmock handed Greg one of the mugs as he opened the magazine up. All the pages were filled with endless information on useless toys and games, something Dimmock never had growing up. Though, it didn't take an idiot to realize what children really liked to play with.

"Have you thought about the purple playhouse? It comes with the furniture and everything, and it's easily affordable with your current pay."

Dimmock turned the magazine around to face Greg as he pointed out a small looking playhouse in the lower left hand corner. Just like Dimmock said, it included three chairs, a play stove, a table, and various play food items all of which came free with the house.

"Wow, that was easy," Greg murmured. "I'll never know how you do it, Iain."

"Just a little trick I picked up," he smiled, sipping his tea.

"What, how to save money? And to think I've been in this world longer."

"Well, when you're as young as me and have such a rubbish flat, you learn to make do with what you've got."

Greg nodded his head as he too took a swig of tea. "The question now is when I'll have time to get it. I'm booked this whole week with cases that I haven't even gotten to yet." The older DI blew out air as he ran a hand through his silver hair. "I know I'm going to have to get it, but bloody when?"

Dimmock smiled brightly at Greg. "You know, I'm not just here for my looks. I've got some free time on my hands tomorrow, actually."

"You've got no cases to work?"

"Not that I know of. Apparently, all the more experienced DI's are being flagged down for the calls."

Greg winced at the sting in Dimmock's voice, knowing all too well how the younger man felt about his older coworkers looking down on him. "I really am sorry about that, love. It's wrong that they look past you because of your age and I try to tell-"

"Hey, don't worry," Dimmock said, cutting Greg off with a smile. "They'll eventually see me for what I'm worth. For now though, how about I go look at it tomorrow so you have some time to add your special touch to it before the party?"

Greg brought a hand to his chin in contemplation, and after a second a wide grin spread across his face. "You are an absolute angel, Iain Dimmock," Greg burst out as he slid forward to snuggle with the guy.

"It's what I'm here for," Dimmock murmured as he kissed Greg slowly on the lips.

"I was kind of hoping you were here for me," Greg joked, a grin on his face. A mostly selfish grin, he'd admit and one that had nothing to do with finding the perfect toy either. "You want to move somewhere more-uhm- suitable."

"Lets," Dimmock moaned, a wicked glint in his eye.

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_**Well, I thought this went pretty well. Oh, and don't forget to review and drop some suggestions:D Thanks again!**_


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